She jerked to free herself, but old man Papa C was suddenly up and out of the chair. Strong and spry as ever, he tightened his grip. At the same time, the younger guy from the hospital room yesterday rushed in the door.
"Stop struggling." Gun drawn, eyes narrowed on hers, and smirking, the thug motioned her to step back. “Move. Now! Don’t make me tell you again, lady.”
She stepped back.
Suddenly, she remembered where she’d seen him before yesterday—Peyton’s service center. The night Earl supposedly fell on the floor. That night Papa C said he’d clean him up. Said he’d stay to help fix the customer’s truck. The so-called customer—the bearded thug standing in front of her now—had been clean shaven that night, but it was him.
She’d never forget the way he’d stared at her. He had the same threatening look today except now he had a beard. Changed his overall look. A beard. What was it about the beard? The beard…
“Oh my gosh. You’re Phillip’s drug dealer.” The one she’d seen the night she’d followed her husband to a drug buy.
The thug lifted the corner of his mouth in a menacing smile. “Interesting. You know more than we thought.”
“Well, isn’t this nice.” In walked the older, grey-haired gentleman from the hospital yesterday. The one who had said very little yet gave off the vibe of being in control of everything happening in Papa C’s room. “Looks like everything’s already fallen into place.”
Betsy turned her attention toward him and his black wool overcoat and black leather gloves. His creased trousers and shiny black shoes seemed to top off who he felt he was in whatever this involved. To her, he looked like a big-city crime boss personified.
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” She glanced back and forth between Papa C and the thug. Narrowed her gaze to the older gentleman. “Who are you? Why did you drag Papa C out of the hospital? Can’t you see he’s not well?”
“Some people might say I’m the brains behind the operation. You can just call me Mr. Partner. And my assistant”—he pointed at the thug standing by his side—“you can call him James. As for Papa C, he came along willingly. Isn’t that right, little brother?” The man smirked behind his sinister tone. “Sooner or later, he always does the right thing for the family. Always.”
For a split second, Papa C loosened his hold, and Betsy jerked her hand free. He grabbed at her, but she backed away and to the side, trying to put the desk between the men and herself. She felt better knowing Summer was secure in the storage room, which had been designed with no windows to double as somewhere to shelter in place during a tornado.
Suddenly she tensed. Marcy… Marcy would be back soon. Then what? Betsy’s phone rang and she reached to grab it from her pocket.
“James!” Partner shouted as he pointed at her.
The thug grabbed her wrist. She twisted to pull away. If she could just push the answer button, someone would hear what was happening. The man tighten his hold and jerked her back, doing his own twist on her arm. She cried out in pain.
“Don’t answer that call, Betsy. That’s not a request. That’s an order!” Papa C’s loud and angry tone was one she’d never heard him use with her before. “And stop moving around, too. Right now. Understood?”
She stopped fighting. Stopped moving. The glaring expression on his face gave her pause. She’d only seen that one other time—when Phillip had argued with his father. That had been the day before the wreck. She hadn’t thought of that since she’d woken up in the hospital. Broken and battered and alone.
Her phone rang two more times before clicking to voicemail. Blowing out a sigh of defeat, she cradled her aching wrist and waited. “Understood. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Let her be.” Partner moved closer, staring straight into her eyes. “But you’re wrong on one thing. You will be going with us when we leave the building.”
“Why?” Papa C asked.
“She’s our ticket out of town and any other situation that arises.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
Partner stepped closer to his brother. “I don’t care what you think. Thought you learned your lesson years ago when you tried to turn on the family. Remember how that ended?”
Papa C looked thoughtful, almost sad, then nodded. “I remember.”
Betsy intently listened to the conversation. She wanted to be sure of every clue they were giving. There was no doubt but that somewhere in the future she’d be called on the stand to testify against one or all of these men.
“Don’t you ever forget that I’m the one in charge here.” Partner unbuttoned his overcoat and turned in his brother’s direction, waving his hand toward the office door. “Now, where’s your office, brother dear? This safe you say you’ve got hidden better be there.”
Betsy felt his ominous meaning before the words even hit her brain. The vibe in the room was changing. Right now, the future seemed to hinge on something in a safe she had no idea even existed in this building.
“I know where I keep my money. I’m not a complete incompetent.” Papa C straightened.
“Well, you’re only half right on that. Seeing that you left a whole lot of it at the casinos and can’t even remember which one.” Partner looked in her direction, motioned her to follow Papa C as James walked behind her. “You going to do whatever we tell you to do? No questions asked?”
She had to save Summer. Had to get these men out of the office before Marcy returned. Had to hold on to the idea that Cain and JB and the others would find all of them in time. She could do what these criminals asked until that moment.
